Page 4 of Their Perfect Daddy

MONTY

S ometimes when you fuck up in life, you don’t realize it’s a fuck up at first.

That was how it went with Danny and the underwear incident. I didn’t think I’d done anything wrong. Sure, I felt bad for walking in on the guy. It’s not something most normal people want or are used to.

As an athlete, I’m naked around other people a good thirty percent of the time. Maybe more. It’s nothing for me to have to strip down to my underwear.

Granted, I’m not in devastating lingerie when I do it. My basic boxer briefs aren’t exciting to anyone on the team. I can admit that.

But Danny’s panties— are they even panties if they’re on a man? —were anything but basic. He looked… mesmerizing. Gorgeous. Drop dead sexy.

I was two seconds away from drooling when he asked me to leave. So of course, I was an idiot and ran away. The entire night I’d been trying not to be too forward, yet when it comes down to making him uncomfortable, I excel at it. Go figure.

Back to the fucking up bit.

It takes me finding his abandoned clothes in my bathroom the next morning for me to realize the error of my ways. Not only did I not check on him again after the incident, but I also ignored the voice in my head telling me there was more to it.

Because while I see the interaction as awkward because of his nakedness and my immediate attraction, I have a feeling that’s not how Danny sees it. My blurted words and shocked expression might be taken as disgust. Or maybe amusement.

Neither are accurate.

I wanted to kiss his cute little mouth and run my hand along that delicate fabric so badly at that moment. If he’d have given me any indication he liked me too, I would have pretended the rest of the house didn’t exist as I locked the bedroom doors.

In the light of day, the situation looks much different.

Dammit.

I have to apologize. A glance in the mirror tells me the apology will have to come after a shower and brushing my teeth. I might also need to eat something greasy too since I have a feeling my stomach is a few minutes away from rebelling.

Why do I always fall into the habit of getting drunk with the other guys? Why can’t I enjoy a nice night with only a couple of beers instead? Maybe then I wouldn’t be in this situation where I’m having to prepare an apology to a man I want to date.

Speaking of dating, I need to figure out how to get in touch with him. I could ask Micah for his information. My brother might be in a good enough mood to give it to me. But then again, he could think it’s weird and tell me to shove off.

I know the two of them work together and are friends. How close are they? Will Micah be all protective and shit?

Also, will he know about last night? I wince as the thought comes.

If I ruined things with both of them, I’ll never forgive myself. Maybe I should lay off the drinking from now on. A sober journey could be good for me.

After I get cleaned up and feed myself, I take in the aftermath of the party. The guys didn’t leave too big of a mess, thankfully. There is still some basic work to be done. As much as I could hire out the job, I don’t really enjoy relying on other people to fix what I messed up.

People expect me to have a host of employees at my beck and call for this type of stuff. I’d much rather take care of it myself since no one should be subjected to hammered NFL players or their life choices. Even the idea of bringing people in like I’d suggested to Danny feels wrong.

It takes a few hours to get things back in order. Once I’m done, I decide a jog is necessary to purge the last of the liquor from my system.

Five miles, a gallon of sweat, and some deep thinking later, I have a plan. I’ll prove to Danny and Micah I’m a good guy. I can express to him that I was merely shocked by what I saw instead of freaked out. If he takes it well, then maybe I can even share that it was arousing.

Not in front of my brother. Ew, no. I don’t need him knowing what gets me going.

I decide it’s best to learn more about Danny before I go about apologizing. I want to prove to him I’m invested enough to actually do more than say the words.

Logging onto my socials, I pull up my brother first. His profile is mostly company related. Since he’s in the business of appearances and parties, the focus is on highlighting what he has to offer customers. Not a lot of it is personal.

As I scroll, I check for a single glimpse of Danny in the background. I see tiny morsels of him. A shoulder here or a hand there. It’s the worst kind of edging that’s not even really edging at all. Teasing would be a better word. My cock is hard as stone and aching for relief.

I refuse to whack it to my brother’s social media profile. That’s taking things a step (or ten) too far.

After an hour of scrolling, I find an old post where he’s tagged Danny. The two stand side-by-side, with big smiles on their faces. It’s an adorable photo. I immediately save it to my phone, then I make a copy and crop it, so my brother isn’t in it.

While the image is older, Danny looks practically the same. His adorable features call to me, begging me to fix what went wrong the night before.

I shake my head, not wanting to sink into those dark thoughts again. Not when I have a plan to formulate.

Going to Danny’s profile is akin to opening a gold mine of information. He has everything public, and there’s also a link to connect to all the other platforms. Each post gives me more hints about him, from his favorite color to the type of food he prefers.

I pause my search to go grab a notebook. This is too much information to attempt to memorize. I don’t want to skip over anything. Even the small details matter.

Once I have the perfect place to store everything, I start over from the beginning. I catalogue the data, studying to earn my degree in all things Danny.

To have only met him once, I have to admit this is even more than I usually do. I’ve never been this focused on another person.

Maybe the connection we have is one of those instant types. Not love, necessarily. More so the attraction and ease between us is higher than normal.

At least that’s what I’m going to tell myself.

It’s enough to justify my feelings about my current level of stalking.

By the time evening rolls around, I have more than enough to execute a plan. First, I need to make sure Micah isn’t too busy with work stuff. I check his website to see how his bookings look for the week.

I wince when I see he doesn’t even have time for a consultation until next week. If he’s that busy, then Danny will be too. If I’ve learned anything from my searching today, it’s that they both take their work very seriously. The detail in each post they share is enough to confirm as much.

If I take my time, then I’ll have even more in order for when I do convince him to give me another chance. Patience is going to be key here.

Also, I might need to bribe him a bit. What better way to convince him I’m ok with his choice of underwear than to get him more of them?

The major hiccup with this idea is the lack of information I have. Sure, I can see surface level stuff with all the stalking I’ve done. But what I can’t know is the style he prefers, and more importantly, what size he wears.

Thankfully, there’s an easy and somewhat obvious solution: I’ll get him a gift card.

A quick Google search gives me a few different places I can order from.

I choose gift cards from two of them and set them to deliver anonymously to the store in discreet packaging.

Once that’s done, I visit another site just to be sure I’m not missing out on anything.

As I’m scrolling the page, my curiosity is triggered by a pair of funny socks.

They have a toaster on them with the words “let’s get toasted” underneath.

I snicker as I scroll through the other options. It’s only as I explore the rest of A Little’s Designs that I notice something I hadn’t before.

This site isn’t your typical clothing store. In fact, the socks that caught my attention are the most vanilla of the items offered.

I say vanilla because there is definitely something kinky going on here. Onesies, bottles, diapers, and an array of bibs fill my screen as the words “new arrivals” flashes across the top banner of the page.

Part of me wants to close the page and chalk it up to nothing. But another part of me is curious. What do people do with this kind of stuff?

Their FAQ link beckons me. I click it before I can talk myself out of being too nosey.

The owner of the site uses the top of the page to talk about the ordering process and how returns work. It’s all very standard at first glance. It’s not until I scroll further down that I see the Little personality quiz.

On a whim, I decide to take it. Three minutes and a near panic attack later, I get an answer.

Apparently I’m a Middle.

Now I have to figure out what that means.

The site gives me a brief description. Still, it’s not enough for my desperate need to understand myself better. I feel like I’ve fallen down the hole into Wonderland.

Same as Alice, I find myself wanting to explore and learn everything I can. Who knows how this is going to change my life? Better to get all the facts before I make any changes.

Plus, this might affect the stuff with Danny.

Oh, shit.

Danny.

Thinking of him and how he’ll feel about my apparent kink status is worrisome. While he might be the type to wear lace underwear, it doesn’t mean he’ll embrace whatever the heck I’ve got going on.

The only way to truly know is to ask him. Maybe if I get back in his good graces, I’ll find a way to bring it up.

Until then, I’ve got decades worth of Tumblr posts, a few Reddit groups to explore, and possibly an entirely new life to discover.